


Antidoting

by talkingtothesky



Category: Person of Interest (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Coda, Episode: s01e08 Foe, Gen, Gen or Pre-Slash, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Season/Series 01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-21
Updated: 2018-03-21
Packaged: 2019-04-05 12:21:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 322
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14044179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/talkingtothesky/pseuds/talkingtothesky
Summary: John doesn't realize he's hurt until Harold touches him.





	Antidoting

They turn from Ulrich's grave together, synchronised steps as their paths converge. The cemetery ground is uneven, as is Finch's gait. Perhaps this is the only reason that Finch's arm presses against Reese's as they walk. A simple overbalancing, not a deliberate attempt at comfort.

 

Whatever Harold's intentions, Reese flinches at the contact. The nerves from elbow to shoulder are like live wires, the lingering effect of Kohl's needles.

 

Finch notices. "Are you hurt? Detective Fusco mentioned you were tied to a chair when he arrived."

 

Reese smiles, hoping to laugh it off. "Just some mild torture, with needles. Had to respect his creativity."

 

This is the wrong thing to say. Finch's jaw goes slack, and he reaches for John's wrist, unbuttoning his shirt cuff. They come to a stop at the edge of the grass, one foot on the path.

 

Reese notices for the first time that his little finger is tingling, and his fourth finger is numb. Harold carefully pushes up John's sleeve until he can look at his elbow.

 

"Well, you're not bleeding, at least. But there's a bruise. You'd better put some ice on it."

 

"I'll be fine, Finch."

 

"I'd prefer it if you were more than 'fine', Mr. Reese. The moment you get home, you will rest and treat it, understood?"

 

Reese neglects to point out that he doesn't have a home. The cheap hotel he's staying at will probably have ice buckets, though. "Sure, I'll do that." He confirms, as Finch is waiting for an answer before he lets go of John's arm.

 

Then horror dawns in his eyes. "The poison, that he gave Wernick - "

 

John reassures him "- wasn't the same needle he used on me. I'd be dead by now, if he'd laced them all."

 

Harold breathes out somewhat shakily. "I hope you're right."

 

"Don't trust me?" John says playfully. Yesterday Harold drank the tea he brought him. They're getting closer, step by tiny step.


End file.
